Love is Friendship Set On Fire
by Samantha Joan
Summary: Annie & Auggie one-shots. Current: "I've always been sure of you," she breathes. "From the moment we met. That I could trust you – count on you. And later on, of how I felt about you." She tilts his cheek towards her. "We're what I'm sure of." /S4 tag (pt3).
1. Know You By Heart

**This is something about them that I've loved for...forever and after reading Chris' interview I knew I wanted to write a little something based on it.:) Still getting my feet wet with these characters.**

_**"The thing with Annie is a very specific choice that our writers have made, which is that these two people just have a connection. I think it goes beyond him having a very good sense of smell. He does have a good sense of smell and it is not a superpower. What he does have is a really good connection with this one person What they have done is made the choice that those two people just get each other and he just knows it is her. He can't explain it. But he can't do that with anybody else..."**_

* * *

><p>She'd gotten dressed in a hurry, forgoing her usual perfume and racing out past the morning cyclone that was her sister and nieces getting ready for their day.<p>

So, she was just a_ little_ surprised when she was greeted with a, "Morning, Annie," as she entered past the double doors.

"Seriously?" She laughed and shook her head. "What gave me away now?"

He smiled and she automatically linked their arms as they walked to his desk. "Haven't we already discussed this?"

She nodded. "Yes. And you still have me completely stumped."

Auggie flashed her a grin. "Just keeping you on your toes, Miss Walker."

Rolling her eyes, she let out a laugh. "Right," she answered, and nudged him for good measure.

...

"New shoes?" the voice greeted her one Thursday as she made her way out of the file room.

She blinked up with an amused smile. "As a matter of fact, yeah. Present from my sister."

Auggie nodded approvingly, and clearly pleased with himself. "Very nice."

"Should I even bother asking?"

"Oh you can certainly_ ask_," he teased. "Doesn't mean that I'm going to tell you."

She sighed, feigning frustration, though the smile gracing her features just widened.

"Now," he beamed, placing his hand on the small of her back to inch her forward, "let's walk them on over to Joan's office."

She snaked her arm around his on a nod. "Let's."

...

Annie was leaning against the door frame as he sat at his computer, working through the encrypted data from Joan he'd received while she was on her mission.

She smiled letting out a content sigh; this was always one of her favorite parts of returning home.

"Walker," he took a sip of the coffee next to him before turning his head to face her, grinning. "It's really not polite to stare, you know."

She just laughed quietly, not bothering to argue – a lost cause with him anyway.

"As oddly mesmerizing as I am," he added, and she huffed as she stepped in front of his chair.

"Just glad to be back," she informed him with a smile.

"I can imagine." He sighed before leaning back in his chair. "Hell of a day."

"Definitely." She ran her hands through her hair, a sigh of her own escaping her before she heard her stomach rumble.

The day really hadn't left much time for nourishment.

"Hey-" She took a step forward, about to ask if he'd be willing to cut out for the day to grab a bite (and without a doubt a drink) at Allan's when he interrupted her.

"To the right of my monitor."

"Hmm?"

He gestured his head for her to look and she saw next to him the large blueberry muffin. She shook her head in amazement.

Seriously..._How?_

"Thank you," Auggie."

He smiled and nodded in response. "You really shouldn't forget to eat –– gotta keep your strength up if you're gonna be any use around here."

She laughed and patted his arm before she grabbed the muffin off the desk. "I am touched by your concern," she whispered over him.

"As well you should be."

Taking a bite, feeling her hunger, not to mention the stress of the mission, dissipate, she found herself staring once again.

She was still completely and utterly stumped.

...

She held out the beer for him to take, his hands barely grazing over hers – before she yanked it away from him.

"Hey-"

"Not so fast, mister," she told him. His face grew in confusion and she set the beer down next to her. "Not until you tell me what I want to know."

He laughed. "Bartering beer for intel, Miss Walker? I thought we were off the clock."

"Come on!" She laughed back shaking her head, quickly resting her hand on the sleeve of his jacket. "I'll drop it after this, I swear."

He sighed before leaning in towards her. "Truth?"

"Yes, please."

He perused his lips and nodded. "I," he paused for what she assumed was supposed to be dramatic effect,"have absolutely no idea."

She blinked. "What?"

"Seriously, Annie. I have no idea how I know it's you - I just do."

A curious smile flashed over her."Yeah?"

"I don't know," he pressed on. "With Joan there's always the sound of her chain or her footsteps, light but with purpose –– most always in a hurry. And Jai, there's that God awful cologne-"

"I like his cologne," she teased.

"My_ point is_," he continued, over her last statement, "there's always..._something_ with everyone else. I mean, it used to be your perfume or heels. I've told you as much."

"You have," she mused, her lips curving.

"Now though, it doesn't really matter." He shrugged and exhaled quickly, meeting her eyes as best he could.

"For whatever reason, I can always just tell when you're around me."

The way he said it, like it was just a matter of fact, the inflection in his voice soft, and an uncharacteristically shy smile spreading across his face –– it more than tugged at her heart.

She released a silent laugh in wonderment, for once at a loss for what to say.

Crossing her arms on the table, she released a breath before leaning in to lightly bump her shoulder with his.

"You have an Annie sense?" she jested.

He laughed, tilting his head at her. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

She smiled, taking a swig of her beer.

Out of all the possible explanations, this one definitely satisfied her the most.

"Now," he held out his hand towards her with a sly grin, "give me my drink, Walker."

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><p><em><strong> "...I think with the exception of Annie, he doesn't have that kind of sixth sense with anybody else."<strong>_

**If you guys are interested, I may want to write a companion piece with his POV of the "Annie sense," and their connection. **

**Thoughts?  
><strong>


	2. Know You By Heart II

**Thanks so much for the reviews on the first chapter. :) This picks up with them still at Allen's, but with Auggie thinking over times his "Annie-sense" has kicked in. Using actual scenes from the show, because...I just think it worked better? I hope.**

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><p>She finally relented, giving him his drink.<p>

An Annie sense...

He smiled again, shaking his head as she went on to change the subject, letting him in on all the mischief her nieces had gotten into.

Though, he couldn't help thinking that her answer seemed to fit.

It surprised him at first; sorta snuck up on him.

Those heels of hers had always been unmistakable, and when he got a waft of the subtle sweet perfume she wore – it was always a dead giveaway.

Recognizing Annie's presence, had just become routine to him.

...

He knew she'd be back today–– Joan told him as much –– though he had no idea when.

He walked passed the elevator for a step, before he registered someone in front of him.

It took him less than a second later to realize who.

"Annie Walker."

"Auggie," she greeted him in return, and he could hear the smile in her voice. "How do you do that?"

He laughed and she went on pondering, informing him of her lack of perfume and non- distinct heels.

Smiling, he patted her hand that linked around his arm.

"What would you say if I told you, you projected a warm fuzzy aura that I can sense?"

In actuality, he realized, he was only half-kidding.

When he thought about it, there hadn't been any specific reason for him to assume it was her.

But he just knew.

Chalk it up to good instincts.

She expressed her gratitude for the postcards he sent her sister, and he's just glad he could help.

He really was glad she's back.

...

He walked up to the elevator and pressed the up arrow, fully aware of the presence now standing next to him.

They stepped inside, without saying a word, and he pictured a coy smile playing across her features.

"You're still here with us regular folk."

He finally broke out into the grin he'd been fighting, his suspicions confirmed.

The return of their banter is effortless; making light of what they knew was hard for both of them.

She was right, not seeing each other every day...It wouldn't be the same.

He reassured her that Joan made the right choice in choosing her for this mission and it actually made _him_ feel better that he could still be there for her.

"In case you missed it, I just hit seven."

He just made out the sound of her laughter as the elevator door closed in front of him.  
>...<p>

Later on when he entered his new office, he immediately knows it's her leaning on his desk.

He smiled.

"Annie Walker and an icy hot Menthol."

And in a turn of events, it's her this time that reassured _him_ that he could do this.

...

It was a gut feeling, really, that he knew where she and Reeva would be.

Her going back to the Ukraine, it just made sense for her.

Their arms are linked while they walk as she questioned this. (Apparently the "I know everything," answer didn't satisfy.)

The answer came to him easily - because it's _Annie_. And she's intuitive and resourceful and despite being relatively new at this, really, _really_ good at what she does.

"Because it's unexpected. You always do the unexpected thing."

Also because he happened to know her better than even he realized he did.

...

He got in early so he could make a coffee run.

He figured she'll need the caffeine boost – and maybe just a boost in general.

Entering through the doors, he stopped in his tracks.

"Milk, two sugars."

There was a pause and she released a breath, apparently once again bewildered at his perception.

"How do you always know it's me?"

"Some people call it a sixth sense," he returned, his lips curving. "I like to call it a fifth. But that's just me."

...

It wasn't a fifth sense, _or _his heightened sense of smell or hearing either.

It was just because it was _her_.

It doesn't matter what she's wearing, if she's in heels or in sneakers gearing up for one of their sparing matches, or if she's not wearing any fragrance.

For whatever reason, he's learned that his body can recognize her even before he does.

It's like the air and energy around him shifts...feels lighter somehow.

And he can just tell.

"My sister went _postal_," she finished on a laugh and he joined in along with her. She stopped for a beat and he heard her shift closer.

He caught her wrist mid air as it moved over his plate. "Don't even think about it, Walker."

"_Auggie._" It was always amusing to hear her pout. "Come on. Be polite and share?"

He smiled with an over-dramatic huff.

He thinks it has less to do with_ him_ and more to do with _them_ and their friendship. They way they can read each other, anticipate each others moods and actions (in the field and out) –– it's just a testament to how close they've become.

In a way that he realized, he's not with anyone else.

Pushing the plate of fries in her direction, he leaned forwards with a grin.

"You're lucky I like you."

* * *

><p><strong>So, yeah...that was just me exploring a bit what the writers have set up with that. I'll be sure to return with a fic with actual, you know, plot, sometime soon. :) <strong>


	3. Routine

**Ah, can't believe it's been this long since I posted anything for these two - but with the new season starting soon, wanted to dive in again with this short piece.:)**

* * *

><p>She let out a sigh when she got out of the elevator before her lips instantly curled upwards at the sight of him –– completely engrossed in work –– at his desk.<p>

"Working hard, or hardly working?" she teased, her back against the side of the door frame to his office.

There was no missing his smirk before he angled his head towards her. "Annie," he fake chastised in his 'handler' tone, "I thought the car was taking you straight home from the airport."

She hummed and took a step away, starting to approach his desk. "Made a detour."

He offered a half laugh and nod. "I gathered."

Annie continued to make her way over to him before she propped herself up slightly at the edge of his desk, facing him. "You are very astute."

He grinned. "So, what was it? Wanted a head start on all the paper work, did you, Worker Bee?"

"_Me_?" It was her turn to laugh, and tilted her head at him. "Says the guy that's still here as it's pushing one a.m."

"Less I have to do Monday," he explained, with a soft shrug. "Seriously though, Walker. I'm not the one that spent the last eight hours on a flight. You must be exhausted."

She couldn't help but smile at the concern in his voice and she knows there's no point in arguing with him.

She is, without a doubt, exhausted.

The stress of the mission –– and as he'd mentioned the long flight –– had left her pretty drained.

But coming here, that all suddenly went away––

Which it always did the moment she saw him after a mission.

With all the chaos and unpredictability of their work, any stable, comfortable pattern was nearly impossible to come by.

So, returning after her missions to a 'good job, Walker,' and her best friend's warm smile was a tradition that was well worth withstanding a little fatigue.

"Mmhm," she conceded. Straightening up she pat his shoulder and gestured her head in the direction of the door. "So how about we cut out of here?" she whispered over him.

He gave a tired smile as he stood."Thought you'd never ask."

She simply rolled her eyes as an answer while linking her arm through his.

After she'd checked in when she landed – she had let the driver know that there might be two extra stops.

She had a feeling Auggie would still be at the building, for the same reason _he_ knew that she wouldn't go straight home ––

Routine.

They stepped into the elevator in a comfortable silence and she blinked up at him with a smile.

Apparently sensing her eyes on his (like he always could) he faced her as the doors closed in front of them.

"Hey, Annie –"

"Yeah?"

He grinned. "Welcome back."

She gave his arm a squeeze, her smile widening.

"Thanks, Auggie."

And now she was home.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts, mi amors?<strong>


	4. Chaos Theory

By the looks of the premiere, and Piper & Chris's interviews...This season is going to be the death of me. Oye.

This is a tag of sorts, so spoilers ahead. :) It also sort of almost follows up with my piece To Have An Auggie in Your Life.

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em><strong>"They are our solid ground, our North Star, the still clear voices in our hearts that will be with us –- always." ❤<strong>_

* * *

><p>She started to tap her fingers idly against the table, <em>their <em>usual table - she wasn't sure if she could even call it that anymore.

(What was usual now, anyway?)

She'd always thrived on chaos. Embraced it, sought it out, even.

In a way, that ever fluid, forward motion – ("motion is progress," Joan said) was, and had always been one of her only constants.

_Nothing endures but change... _

She had been perfectly okay with that.

Until that change had taken one of her closet friends, one that had saved her life on more than one occasion, right in front of her.

(The ringing still hadn't stopped.)

Until that change had taken her team...her best friend –– her solid ground –– (how long had it been now since they'd actually _really_ spoken?) leaving them to keep secrets from each other in the name of protocol. (She really, _really_ hated protocol.)

Leaving her with this now _storm _of chaos picking her up off her feet, spinning and spinning and _spinning, _dizzy with no where to land.

She took a deep breath and then a quick swig of her beer before looking up at the figure now standing over her.

"This seat taken?"

Her lips curved into a smile, despite the roll of her eyes. "Mmm," she hummed, thoughtfully. "Yes, actually. Saving it for someone. A good friend...loyal, dependable, always armed with a witty remark."

"Well he," he finally sat down, his own grin widening, "sounds like a_ fantastic _guy."

She laughed, handing him the beer she'd gotten for him. "He is. You seen him around lately?"

He offered a pale smile at her joke, taking the drink. "Thanks. _So-_" He stopped and exhaled, the levity gone from the moment already. "How are you doing, Miss Walker?"

Truth be told, she hated that question as much as she hate protocol. After a traumatic event or a loss, it had always sounded so _hollow _to her – as if anyone could possibly understand _how she was feeling._

Except Auggie actually did.

"I'm..." She paused, shrugging lightly. "I'm okay."

He shot a disbelieving look her way.

"I am _somewhere_ near the vicinity of okay," she amended, placing her hand over his for a second. "I promise."

She took his small nod as his usual code for I'll-take-it-for-now-but-we're-still-not-done-with-this, and pressed on. "And you?" she asked. "Whatever Jai got himself into-"

"_Annie-"_

"I _know_ you can't tell more than you already have," she stopped, running her hands through her hair. "Just...tell me you're being careful."

He smirked, an eyebrow raised.

She definitely missed that teasing smile.

"You're not worried about me, are you, Annie?"

"You?" She punctuated the question with a quick shoulder bump. "Never."

He laughed and downed a gulp of his beer. "Glad to hear it. Now how are things with the new boss shaking out?"

She squinted, considering. "It's...different. She's different – than Joan, I mean."

"Oh?"

"Yeah - more, communicative?" She shrugged. "She let's me take the reigns a little more. Treats me like an equal."

"Ah." He smirked. "I bet you love that."

"I _do_," she conceded, with a silent laugh. "I don't know, I guess there's a bit of an adjustment period – no scheduled check-ins, no verifying what's 'protocol,' and you know –" She leaned in slightly with small smile – "no little birdie in my ear with a quick exit strategy if I need one."

He smiled back and met her eyes, with scary precision (that kind of made her feel more than a little transparent). "And I am sure you're handling it just fine."

She exhaled, starting to trace circles on the table, looking down. "Like I said –it's different. Feeling like I'm actually out there on my own when I'm in the field."

"Hey–" He reached in front of him to move his glass away before resting his hand on her arm, making her snap her head up. "You are not alone okay? Not as long as I'm around. That number I gave you? Doesn't come with an expiration date."

"If you ever need anything – anything – you call me. Got it?"

Her cheeks warmed and she bit her lip, barely managing a nod in response. She cleared her throat. "Got it."

"Okay then." He shifted back in his chair. "You, uh, you try to remember that the next time you're _jogging_."

He leveled her with a teasing glance and yeah, _of course _she should have realized that lying to him would never work.

He knows everything––_all. of. the. time_.

She chuckled lightly, a shake of her head in amusement over whatever she'd done to deserve such an amazing person in her life. "Yeah. Okay. I think I can do that."

A breath is released at the warm smile she's graced with, one that she hadn't even been aware she was holding.

When she was little, fond of the adrenaline rush of sticking her arms out and whirling around in circles until the world around her was a blur, her sister had taught her to keep her eyes trained on one spot. Just one.

Keep fixed on one spot in front of you and you won't fall down.

"Face it, Walker –– you're stuck with me."

The man in front of her proving that theory.

No matter what changes chaos threw her way, he was still her safe place to land – that ever-fixed constant when the world was a blur.

Smiling, she shifted closer towards him, picking up his empty bottle of beer and giving it a quick shake.

"In that case, we should get another round."

_After changes upon changes, we are more or less the same._

* * *

><p>The writers seem to be intent on putting our fave pairing through the ringer, with outside circumstances creating all this distance. Damn CIA. But as Chris said, "it makes the heart grow fonder, in a way that it hadn't before." ❤<p>

So, this was me exploring/trying to have them overcome a bit of that initial distance.:)

Reviews are oh-so-lovely, if you're inclined.


	5. If I Needed You

Oh dear_ goodness _that last episode...I _can't even_. I started this after the episode, but it took some time to work out exactly how I wanted the interaction to go. Praying I did both characters justice. :)

Also: thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. :) And Props to the Castle fans for recognizing the quote - hope you catch the nods in here as well. ;)

* * *

><p><strong><em>If I needed you, would come to me for to ease my pain?<em>**

**_...  
><em>**

**_**If you needed me, I would come to you. I would swim the sea, for to ease your pain.**_**❤

* * *

><p>The ring of her phone on the night stand of her makeshift bedroom caused her to sit up, grabbing it before it could wake the sleeping man next to her.<p>

She stood up and started walking towards the bathroom and away from the bed before she looked at the caller ID.

"Auggie," she answered in a hushed whisper, relieved that he'd called her back despite the late time. "You got my voice-mail? About earlier – you know that I-"

"Annie," she heard him clear his throat and the inflection in his voice instantly turned that relief into dread at whatever was coming next.

This couldn't be good.

"You, uh, think that schedule's free now?"

She was already scanning the dresser for her keys as she made her way to the side of the bed to grab her shoes.

"Talk to me Aug. Where are you?"

She had to blink twice, when he told her, a strangled breath of air the only response she could muster before following up with, "you're _where_?"

...

_Friend in need. Back as soon as I can. _

_Brunch tomorrow to celebrate getting past hour 24? _

_-A _

...

She walked in past the double doors only making it a few steps inside before she saw him standing at the desk with a police officer, before his head slowly turned in her direction.

"Annie?"

She exhaled and walked the rest of the way towards him, and her heart instantly caught in her chest at the sight of his blood shot eyes and the _hollowness _behind them that she'd never seen before.

Smiling palely, she cupped her hands over the sides of his face, feeling the moisture from his cheeks as he leaned his forehead against hers. "See?" she whispered. "You can still wow me with your skills of perception."

"You're lucky his girlfriend got him not to press charges," the officer voiced from beside them before she stepped back. "The bar isn't either."

"Well if today just isn't my lucky day," he bit back with a careless shrug.

"She took his hand to turn him towards her again. "Come on," Auggie," she started, softly. "Let's just get you home, okay?"

He just exhaled and let her lead him out, her arm snaked around his as they walked in silence to the door.

"Hey Annie-" he spoke up after a moment.

"Hm?"

"I _think_ we might have to find a new place for drinks for awhile."

She shook her head on a silent laugh, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Awhile?"

...

She looked at him from the driver's seat before finally resting her hand on his knee.

He closed his eyes on a deep breath and lifted a hand to link through her fingers, leaning his head back behind him.

She drives one handed the rest of the way to his apartment.

...

Annie turned around with a glass of water in hand and watched him for a second as he sat on the couch, face buried in his palms.

God...

She couldn't stop the pang of guilt that settled in her stomach – had she just _been there_...

Too many plates, Simon had said.

One was bound to drop.

And it was killing her that it was this one.

"Drink," she prodded as she sat, handing him the glass.

He took a gulp of water with a nod. "Mm, you know, had I known all it would take to get you to show would be getting arrested-"

"Auggie-" She looked up and sighed. "Look, I know that I've been...distracted the past few days -"

"The past few days," he mussed. "Annie, it's been like pulling _teeth _to get you to tell me anything since Spain. And when you do, it's one word answers." He turned his head towards her with a weak glare. "Or a lie."

"And I said I was sorry about that Auggie," she responded, and she sees that he's hurting and angry and that most of his anger isn't directed at her – but it doesn't make her feel any better.

"There's that word again." He let out a bitter laugh and the sound of it cut through her.

He stood without warning, the glass still in his hand. "You know what – I get it. I _do_. It's the job... That's what it does. It takes and it takes and it_ takes_ –"

She flinched her, eyes shutting closed at the sound of the glass shattering against the side wall of his kitchen.

"_Auggie," _she breathed.

She stood up to meet him where he stood without another word, knowing – hoping– he'd explain everything when he was ready.

"God, I'm sorry, Annie. I just –" He ran a hand behind his neck, leaving the sentence hanging in the air between them.

"Sshh," she cut him off, taking a hold of his hand quickly. "It's fine. Everything's going to be fine." Her eyes caught the sight of his hand still in hers and she gestured towards the stairs. "Go put something on this and I'll take care of the glass, deal?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Okay."

When he didn't _actuall_y make a move to leave, she gently ushered him backwards. "Go," she whispered.

Putting his hands up in mock surrender he retreated upstairs leaving the scent of beer and patron in his wake.

...

"Auggie?"

She'd ascended the stairs (after an internal debate about whether she should go up and check on him or give him a little more time), quickly noting the wreck he'd made of his closet when she did so.

She found him at the edge of the bed and she walked over silently before slowly taking a seat next to him.

"She left."

And her chest suddenly feels very heavy.

"Left...as in you guys had a fight and she needs some space or –"

She was cut off by the resigned look he gave as he turned to her with a small tilt of his head.

The words 'I'm sorry,' are caught in her mouth – but she knows better.

So they just sit.

...

"Is it bigger than a toaster?"

He cocked his head at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" she asked, curling her legs underneath her from her position, now propped up against his headboard. "I didn't say breadbox."

He doesn't answer but offered her a faint smile before dropping his hand on to his lap.

"You know - I can feel the pity radiating off you in waves."

She huffed out a short laugh before shaking her head no.

"You –" She stopped, tried to catch her breath and she can barely hear her own voice over the sound of the blood pounding in her ears. Because, seriously_ – this man – _this amazing, selfless, _brilliant_ man –

"You're kind of extraordinary," she said aloud.

He squinted at her with his lips quirked leaving her cheeks instantly three shades brighter.

"So, if there's anyone I'm feeling sorry for in this scenario? It's her." She curled a loose strand of thread from the comforter around her finger, glancing down before she met his eyes.

"Because she doesn't get to be with you."

There's a trace of the familiar light in eyes now as he rested his hand over hers. "I'm inclined to believe you're pretty biased, Miss Walker."

"Oh, unapologetically so."

"Mmm," he hummed. "Thought so."

She smiled warmly with sigh. "You should sleep, Auggie," she instructed, softly.

He was definitely going to be feeling it in the morning.

"I will," he answered. "And – thank you. Really. For getting me." He took a beat. "And for..." He trailed off with a small, genuine, _Auggie_ smile and all at once it fills her up.

Reminds her how much she needed him too.

"Always."

His hand beckoned her attention again and she blinked down, trying to discern if he'd really put anything on the cuts, tracing a line across his knuckles.

"How's it look?"

She sighed, her gaze leaving his hand to look up at him, the past few weeks flashing through her mind.

"It'll heal," she promised.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Oh, the night's forlorn, but the morning's warm. <strong>_

_**The morning shines with the lights of love.❤**_

* * *

><p>May – may - want to follow this up with Auggie POV the next day? Since our <em>dear<em> writers are insisting on keeping this distance between them, pretty much 'till season's end. **  
><strong>

Brb, I'm just going to go sob in a corner..._  
><em>


	6. Like Riding A Bike

So, full disclosure...I hate writing AU things, when I _know _they're AU. As in, until the ep actually airs, anything is fair game. Once it does, I hate going against canon. Thus here, it's still Auggie POV, but based on the sneak peek for tonight's episode - and separate from my last chapter.

So, Annie has found out on her own about Parker, and he has now seen basically how her judgement has been impaired as of late, since she hasn't fully coped with losing Jai/the explosion.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Let's run away from the chaos, and hide away from all the noise. <strong>_

_**Some place we know they won't find us; suddenly it feels like we're alone right now. **_

_**Don't hesitate, the world can wait.**_❤

* * *

><p>Click. Click. Click.<p>

He turned at the familiar sound, pictured her, arms folded, as she silently leaned against his door frame as she's done countless times.

He hasn't been around her long enough recently to have really seen it before now.

_(That thought doesn't sit right with him at all.)_

_(He should have known.) _

The way she's been thrusting herself forwards into the dark abyss, no fear of consequences as she falls – jumps – into the rabbit hole.

Because she won't, _can't,_ slow down.

Not when it means facing everything she's running from –

It's a feeling he grasps all too well.

"So, I guess I should get used to you waiting up for me again, huh?" she teased, but her voice is quiet. Doesn't carry the usual spark.

"What can I say?" He shrugged, swiveling the chair to face her with a smirk. "It's like a riding a bike."

She hummed her agreement before a short pause and then –

"You think we could move up that drink date of ours?"

He smiled and got up, met her by the door and she immediately snaked her arm around his.

"Look at that. You really _can _read my mind."

She let out a sharp laugh and he can tell she's rolling her eyes.

Click. Click. Click.

And yeah, he's really missed that sound.

...

He wasn't exactly sure how long they'd been driving, windows down slightly, just enough for the warm night air to blow across his face, all the while listening to Mingus.

Letting out a content sigh, he let his head rest back behind him."So, you planning on telling me what bar we're heading to for drinks?"

"Oh, I said we'd drink," she started, and he doesn't miss the coy inflection in her voice.

"But I never said anything about a bar."

...

"Ladies first," he prodded.

They're parked now, somewhere near the outskirts of the city, sitting perched up on the hood of her car.

True to her promise, she'd offered him a flask.

She took a drink herself, cleared her throat.

"I...thought I had a handle on the situation," she answered, simply. "I just..."

"Annie," he cut in. "I've been where you are, you know. That urge? To just keep_ running _blindly – no pun intended – into _whatever_ comes next, because if you don't – you know that _everything else_ will catch up with you––"

"––But eventually–"

"–It always does."

He searched for her hand, lacing his fingers over hers. "And that is when you have to _actually _deal."

She inhaled sharply. "It drowned out the ringing for a while. If I kept going. Now, it's just louder than ever."

"You need to give yourself time," he whispered.

Because he _has _been exactly where she is – the nightmares, the fear––

––the guilt.

"I told you before it wasn't your fault, and it's still not. But it doesn't matter who says it. You'll still wake up everything morning asking yourself the same what-ifs. What if you'd done something differently. What if you hadn't have gone. Most importantly you'll ask yourself–"

He stopped, lifted his head towards the sky. "_How you're still here_."

She huffed out a strangled laugh, and he knows she's holding back tears. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Now who's the mind reader?"

"Mmm," he hummed. "No mind reading. Just experience."

She lifted her head just enough to prop her chin up to face him, giving his fingers a light squeeze.

"I know," she told him, quietly.

"Which is why," he continued, "that I hope you that you will do something you're not particularly found of."

"And what's that?"

"_Listen_ to me."

She laughed. "Hey, I listen to you all the time."

He settled for shooting a look in her direction.

"Okay. Fine," she conceded, the smile back in her voice. "Let's hear it."

"I know that you are capable. And I know that you have good instincts–"

"Auggie –" (So much for listening.)

"_But, _I will caution you to slow. It. Down," he finished. "Like I said – give yourself time. To process. To heal."

"And speaking of healing..." She lifted their still linked fingers. "How's the hand?"

So, apparently it was his turn now.

"And she flips the script once again."

"It's what I'm good at," she teased.

"The hand is fine," he came back with. "Thank you for asking."

And _he_ is good at deflecting.

He could almost hear her roll her eyes.

"_Auggie_."

"She's Billy's sister."

No better place to start then at the beginning, right?

"Billy...as in ––"

He nodded. "That would be the one."

He gave her a moment, let it click, before she released a breathy, "oh," in realization.

"The date from the jazz club that night. It was her."

Shrugging, he offered a half-hearted smirk. "I guess those details are finally need to know, huh?"

"What happened?"

He pressed his hand against his thigh on a sigh. "I had to read her in. After Eritrea – Did I thank you for that whole thing, by the way?"

"Don't have to," she replied. "Continue."

"I, uh," he stopped to take a beat. Not having spoken to anyone about this – not really wanting to (despite his drunken plea for his best friend's company that day), he somehow can't find the words.

"I tried to convince her, that I was still me," he finally voiced. "That I was still the guy that she fell in love with. That we could work out all the details as we went along."

She's patiently waiting for him to collect himself, gather his thoughts. Lightly placed a hand on his knee.

"Spoiler alert––" He took the opportunity for a gulp from the flask. "It didn't work."

"Auggie..." Her voice is so_ thick_ with sympathy and if it were anyone else on the planet, he swears that this conversation would be long over.

"She said that we didn't really know each other at all." He stopped, laughed bitterly with a shake of his head. "And I mean, I guess that's mostly true."

He tilted his head, extended out a finger. "She _also_ said that our emotions were 'heightened,' I believe was the word she used, because of Billy."

"Were they?"

It was a fair question, one that had been gnawing at him since the moment she'd walked away from him.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I honestly don't know. Maybe at first. It was good to be around someone who–"

"Understood," she finished for him.

"But it was more than that," he explained. "At least it was for me."

There's a silence now and he assumed she talking the time to figure out what to say.

"I'm sure it was," she whispered.

He rose an eyebrow towards her. "Then why am I sensing a 'but' at the tip of that tongue of yours?"

She laughed silently. "I was just going to say...That I, I also get what you were feeling when you proposed." She exhaled. "Like after...what happened with Jai." She took another beat. "To Jai," she amended. "You suddenly realize how fleeting everything is. And you just want to hold on to something _good_. Something stable. And never let it go or slip through your fingers."

Too late.

But – "Life is too short to hold back," he reasoned.

Another silence and he heard a quiet lick of her lips as she took a breath.

"Hey there, you still with me?"

She cleared her throat. "Hmm? Yeah. I'm good," she answered, quickly.

He nodded before he shifted back on the car, back flat against it as he angled himself with his elbows propped up slightly.

She followed suit, moved backwards to join him, her shoulder brushing against his.

"I also heard about Arthur sending you to therapy," she said, shifting gears – and maybe he's taught her a little too well.

"Of course you have," he mocked.

"You okay with that?"

"I wasn't," he answered, honestly. "Hated the whole concept. Especially right after the accident. But now..."

"Yeah?"

"I guess I still need a little more time to heal, myself."

She reached for his hand again.

"Together then?"

He smiled, tightened his grip.

As much as he's missed the sound of those heels, he's missed her – them– ten times more.

Maybe he found his something stable after all.

"You got yourself a deal, Walker."

* * *

><p><em><strong>We're falling apart, but falling together now.<strong>_❤

* * *

><p><em>"Part of what's great about separating these two characters is he really starts to realize how much he's unconsciously begun to rely on Annie." -Christopher Gorham.<em>

Promise to write something that is not a tag really, really soon...But there's still so much to be dealt with. Especially with Annie – Simon, her sister leaving...

With this, I just really wanted to highlight the parallels with his accident and what happened + have him open up about Parker. :)

Reviews = love.


	7. Chase This Light With Me

These last few episodes have left me completely, _#$%^*&&9 $_, would be the only way to put it. I've been meaning to write since after ep. 8 - but just couldn't even wrap my head around where I wanted to go with everything that went down.

But, then I had to write this out after the last episode. :)

_And I think with Annie, it all just gets boiled down and it just becomes a very simple 'I need you.' And it's beautiful; it's really sweet. - Christopher Gorham.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Because tonight, the world turned in me – <strong>_

_**Because right now, I don't dare to breathe.**_  
><em><strong> Oh, babe, I know, it's alive and somewhere for us to find tonight, <strong>_

_**Chase this light with me.**_❤_**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p><em>"And sometimes, the moments that make the most sense...happen when everything else doesn't."<em>

* * *

><p>He needs her back home.<p>

He needs her home, _with him_, able to hear all the things that he's wanted to say to her since she's woken up from the hospital.

He's not even sure what half those things really are or how he'd even _begin _to vocalize any of it – _everything _she means to him – (_She_ means everything) –

But he sure as hell needs her back and alive to be given the chance to find out.

He just really needs _her_.

His best friend; one of the few pillars of light he has left.

"_I'll see you soon..."_

He was fighting to breathe after that click on the other line.

The steady sound of the dial-tone and all of a sudden, he's back in her hospital room.

Listening to the unforgiving beep of her heart stopping.

And he can't blame her for going to Russia, really he can't.

Because he's been there. Her need for justice...for vengeance–

He remembers that day a year ago in Istanbul, an eerily similar phone call with him on the receiving end.

"_Whatever you're about to do–– don't."_

"_Please, Auggie, I know you're furious. And hurt. But this is what we do – What we work towards everyday."_

He'd hung up on her too.

"_I'm sorry. It's too late."_

* * *

><p>It's over 24 hours later, and they hadn't received any word after the news from Arthur.<p>

Though if anyone could escape, it would be her.

It _will_ be her.

He'd been running on red bull and coffee, Joan right there with him, offering all the available resources she could every step of the way.

"What are they going to do?" she'd asked, with a pale smile. "Fire me?"

38 hours and counting until he heard the ring of his phone.

The emergency phone with number he'd created just for her...

His heart leapt –

"I'm looking for the American Taxi Company?"

The breath he'd been holding – truthfully since the second she got on that plane was finally let out. "Taking the get out of jail free card a little literally, aren't we, Walker?"

"You know me," she choked out on a course half laugh. "I can never do anything half way."

"You – have no idea how good it is to hear your voice."

"Pretty sure I do," she whispered back.

* * *

><p>He'd looked as exhausted as she felt when she'd walked in, asleep at his chair, head propped up by his hand, three (what was sure to be empty) coffee cups sitting in front of him.<p>

She couldn't stop her eyes from welling up as she quietly met him by his chair, kneeling in front of him slowly, lifting her palm to the side of his face.

"Hey you."

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice.

"Annie," he breathed, and the way he said her name, like a prayer; relief, concern, and something else she can't pin down flooding his voice all at once – it made her heart swell.

"Rough few days for you too?" she asked, teasing, her thumb brushing across his cheek, sure the tears threatening to fall had found their way into her voice.

He attempted to crack a smile in return, raising a hand to meet hers. "More like a rough year."

She let out a hum of assent with a silent laugh, clasping her fingers around his and pulling him up with her as she stood.

Sweeping him in a tight hug he quickly returned, she took in the faded smell of his after shave and the warmth radiating off of him as he tightened his grip around her.

She winced slightly at the strong contact and she felt him start to pull away, afraid of hurting her, but she just squeezed him harder.

"No –just – don't let me go yet."

He didn't say anything, just complied, as they stood frozen in the dim lighting of his office, and when she did finally step back slightly, it was to lean her forehead against his.

"Thank you," she said, softly.

For fighting for her when she couldn't fight for herself.

For standing by her even when he didn't agree with all of her choices.

"_You have to trust me –"_

"_Always have."_

For being there, without question ––

"_Always_." He titled his head back. "Annie, you know that."

"I do."

It's the _one_ thing she's sure of, the one part of her life that still makes any sense.

Him.

After everything he's still her ever-fixed spot when she's dizzy, her world spinning out of control ––

Even more, he the only one that knows how to slow it down.

"So," she adjusted his collar, blinking up at him. "Can I interest you in a ride home?"

She really doesn't want to say goodnight just yet.

"Driver's waiting," she added, with a quick tug on his sleeve.

"Well, we can't have Frank waiting, now can we?"

She let out a deep breath, relieved.

* * *

><p>This ride, much like their last, was relatively silent.<p>

The scattered rain drops they'd experienced when they first left the building now built into a steady downpour, pelting droplets against the car windows.

They just sat, his hand still squeezing hers desperately–

As if she'd disappear if he let go.

She propped her chin up on his shoulder.

"Auggie–"

He angled his head towards her. "You wanna race raindrops?" he asked, with a small grin. "I'll let you pick one for me, if you promise not to cheat."

Humming a laugh in the back of her throat, she rolled her eyes lightly, before biting her lip on a sigh.

"I'm sorry," she whispered up to his ear.

He squinted at her in confusion and before he has the chance to ask, she pressed on.

"For not coming home when you asked. I just – I couldn't. I couldn't just let it go."

"I get it, Annie. Trust me, I do," he answered, taking his free hand to brush her away her hair from her face. "And you're here _now_. Okay? And you're safe. That's all that matters."

She just nodded once in response, gives his hand a squeeze.

There's so much more she needed to say – how much she's missed him, even before all this – how sorry she is for how she'd shut him out.

And that his phone call, his words, were part of what kept her fighting to get home.

There are so many overdue conversations they need to have –

But at least now she knows they still can.

Though right now she just needs –

"Have a good night, Mr. Anderson," Frank called back, and she hadn't even registered when the car had parked.

"How many times have we been over this, Frank," he shot back with a smile. "You can call me Auggie."

He turned to her again, slowly. "And _you_," he started, softly. "Just call me. If you need _anything_."

He brushed his thumb over her knuckles with a quiet smile and he started to open the door to leave, exposing them to the cool air and steady sound of the rain against the pavement.

She took a short breath.

– to stay with him, she realized.

That's what she needs now.

"Wait –"

And before she can think on it, she grabbed his hand again, pulling him back towards her.

He blinked. "What's wr –"

Lifting her hands around his neck, she closed her eyes, planting a kiss along the side of his face, just under his eye.

"–ong," he finished, his voice warm and low.

She inhaled, moving back a fraction of an inch before her lips are brushing against his cheek, and his hands are automatically steadying her waist in place.

(Always steadying her.)

Her lips found the corner of his mouth in another kiss, and she lingered, relishing the warmth of his breath as he exhaled.

"_Annie_," he warned, and she knows for the sake of both their sanities she should just let him leave.

(Though, really, when has she ever known when to stop?)

She still doesn't want to say goodnight.

Instead, she moved her lips, just barely from where they were, to meet his and it's light and breathy and she felt like she's in some sort of day dream.

He pulled away slightly, shaking his head, and she pressed her forehead against his, capturing his lips again, and her hands tightened their grip at the base of his neck.

She whispered a desperate _please _against his lips; he's hesitant and there are million and one reasons why this is quite possibly _the_ worst move she's ever made.

And her heart literally stopped the second he starts to kiss her back.

With one quick movement he pulled her with him out of the car, their lips not parting as they're suddenly water logged, and their clothes clinging to their bodies.

She was freezing, apart from his hands wrapped around her, and his mouth on hers, all rational thoughts being washed away – save one.

_He_ is what she needs.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Confetti rainfall and the quiet street, <strong>_  
><em><strong>The beauty is in what you make it.<strong>_❤_**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>So, by way of explanation of my going <em>totally<em> AU in their reactions here, now that she doesn't have that anger to fuel her any more (since Lena is gone) all she has to focus on is her _loss_. Over Jai, over Simon – and besides the latent feelings she has for Auggie, he's the one person that just...Makes everything better.

And Auggie, well, obviously not one to take advantage of her fragile state – is still just coming to terms with almost losing her _twice _and well, he's a guy. ;)

They could both use a little light after everything...

Pat II soon? If anyone's interested?


	8. Chase This Light With Me II

Look who's posting...10 mins before the episode airs. Thanks _so much_ for the reviews on the last chapter. Really glad it was received well. Hope this short...but hopefully sweet conclusion satisfies.

* * *

><p><em><strong>So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light,<strong>_

_**Cause oh, that gave me such a fright...**_❤

* * *

><p>They made it as far as his front door, his remaining four senses are on complete overload, and he's finding it hard to think, excluding memorizing the feel of her skin through her soaked blouse.<p>

She spun them around, not so gently ushering him back against the door frame and sought his lips fervently –– he's helpless to do anything but comply.

He pulled her closer to him with his hands wrapped around her lower back then traveling upwards ever so slowly until they're resting on her shoulder blades.

A second later her tongue slid past his, requesting entrance and God _damnit _this woman is going to be the death of him.

While her palms are tangled in his shirt and pressed against his torso he trailed both thumbs across her collar bone before his fingers trailed just over her chest as they pull back, gasping for air.

He stopped, his right hand frozen as he felt her sharp inhale of breath.

He'd reached her scar.

She didn't flinch or step back, just let his fingers graze over the skin, reminding him wordlessly she's _here_ – she's safe.

He felt her shift to raise her hand to link through his, still lightly positioned over the spot on her chest.

"I'm glad you're back," he finally managed to whisper down to her ear.

He knows he's said those words countless times, but they weigh differently now, heavy in his mouth – it's obvious in the thick air between them that she can feel it too.

"So, you worry about me after all?" she asked, and he tilted his head at her with soft smile.

"Yeah, so, how about no more close calls for ––at least two weeks?" She let out a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating against his chest.

She was silent for another minute and her thumb brushed across his knuckles before she raised his hand to her lips slowly.

"Promise," she whispered.

* * *

><p>She sat at the foot of his bed eyes shut against the sound of the still pouring rain, hair damp and dressed in a snug hoodie of his from…some convention he went to.<p>

It smelled like him.

He emerged back into the room, his footsteps causing her to blink up in his direction as he took a spot next to her.

She's not sure how long they sat without talking, her hand instinctively reaching for his, and she wondered how something so new already felt like ritual.

"I knew it wouldn't change anything –" she finally said. "I just thought I would feel…" She trailed off with a shake of her head. "I don't know."

"It doesn't bring them back," he agreed, angling his head to face her.

"No," she answered, a small sigh escaping, before burring her head against his shoulder. "It doesn't."

"Hey –" He tightened his grip on her hand. "You're gonna get through this."

She hummed at his comforting words and propped her chin up to meet his eyes.

"Thanks."

* * *

><p>"Sleep, Annie," he instructed softly down to her – and he's fairly certain she's halfway there. "I'll just –"<p>

He was about to get up, thinking it best to take the couch when she turned to put a hand over his chest to stop him.

Without offering the protest that's on the edge of his lips, he gave a small smile on a sigh, adjusting the blanket over them both before they continued with their idle thumb wresting match.

He didn't really want to leave anyway.

Not now that he finally has her back where she belongs.

"So do you think we could get that beer soon?" she mused, softly, her voice thick with sleep. "Long overdue, don't you think?"

He can't help his strangled laugh as she maneuvered herself closer to his side.

"Extremely," he breathed.

* * *

><p>Propped up against his heardboard with him, they listened as the rain quieted, his arms wrapped around her as she drifted off –<p>

It's the first time she's felt safe in a _really_, really long while – allowing herself to believe now that everything will look brighter in the light of day.

And he's right, as always; she'll (they'll) be okay.

Because she has him.

(They have each other.)

* * *

><p><em><strong>...But I will hold on as long as you like, <strong>_

_**Just promise me we'll be alright. **_❤

* * *

><p>So, I didn't think it seemed like the right time for them to talk about the rest of that phone conversation, as exhausted and emotional as they are...<p>

I like the end here, but a friend is pushing for a morning after...thoughts?:)


	9. The One About Secruity (Blankets)

Started this after the adorable blanket scene, and it happens to fit well as a pre-ep to 3.15.

I loved Annie's look as he walked away, it dawning on her that he's been there, on the sidelines, there for her this whole time.

* * *

><p><em><strong>"Maybe she realized she likes you too."<strong>_

_**"Too?"**_ ❤

* * *

><p>There are a handful of people (if that many) in her life that she's allowed herself to get close to –<p>

Allowed herself to really trust.

The shoebox philosophy, the one her sister had never quite understood and teased her for, had been the only way she knew how to cope growing up.

Because getting lulled into that sense of security meant becoming attached, vulnerable, and open to your emotions getting stomped on when the rug is finally pulled out from underneath you.

Kind of the way she was feeling now.

(So maybe she really does need that thicker skin.)

But then, her eyes scanned across the room and land on dresser, where her new blanket sat next to her jewelry box, the spot she had it rested on in a hurry to take a bath and finally, _finally _get some sleep.

She got up from against the bedhead with a soft smile and walked over to pick it up, she shook her head with a sigh as she carried it back with her over to the bed.

And it reminds her of the one person whose motives she's never had to question.

He'd walked away with that ridiculously handsome _boyish_ grin of his and as her eyes trailed after him a small wave of clarity had engulfed her, her heart warmed by the knowledge that he was thinking of her.

Always putting her first.

It's funny really, that it's a gesture so small, in comparison to all the huge –amazing– things that her best friend has done for her as of late – is what reminds her of _how muc_h he's truly been there.

She picked up her phone, doesn't think about how late it is, biting her lip as she dialed his number.

"Okay," he answered on the second ring, his voice slightly groggy, "_this _time you missed me for sure."

A quiet laugh escaped the back of her throat while she settled underneath the blanket, tucking her knees up to her chest.

"Unless you need another favor?"

"No favor, Auggie," she answered. "Can't a girl just call to say hello?"

"Aha. So you did miss me."

She rolled her eyes with a shake of her head before she let out a small hum.

"You caught me."

There was a silence on the other line for a moment until she heard his voice again –

"You all right, Walker?"

It doesn't really surprise her that his mind reading capabilities work over the phone as well.

Though the late hour she's calling may have _something_ to do with it.

She took a breath. "Better now than I would be at Blue Bonnet. Thank you – again."

"Hey, I told you, that was all Joan's doing."

"And I wonder _who_ could have changed her mind?" she challenged, a slight tease in her voice.

"You caught me."

Her eyes closed briefly and she smiled. "Knew it."

"Annie – I know this isn't easy for you. And that you don't want to believe that Eyal would have –"

"I realize that I can't be objective in this situation," she interrupted, softly. "But you can. So...what do you think?"

A sigh. "I don't think it matters what I think. You know him better than I do."

"I thought I did."

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Anne – but in our line of work, that's usually how the story goes," he informed her – and his tone is eerily similar Eyal's earlier.

_There is no such thing as trust in this business._

"Not all the time."

"You know what I like about you, Walker?" he asked, and she can picture the smirk playing across his lips. "You like to see the best in people."

"So I guess that makes me a bit of a chump too, huh?"

"I believe you called it being a romantic," he quipped.

She smiled, lacing a strand of hair behind her ears. "Guess we're birds of a feather then."

He chuckled. "It would appear that way."

"That's not what I meant though," she told him.

"Hm?" he murmured, tiredly, and the smile on her face grew.

"Just that – I know I have at least one person in my life that I can always count on. No question. Someone I trust completely."

Another thick pause before he answered back. "Always, Annie. Besties, remember?"

Despite the joke's levity, she hears the inflection in his voice.

The meaning behind it.

"I remember," she whispered.

"Glad to hear it, Miss Walker."

"If you'll also recall –" he continued, "we have yet to make it to Allen's."

And to talk.

To _really _talk.

She exhaled on a tired laugh. "I think we've exceeded our amount of rain checks allotted for the rest of the year."

"Well, then," he laughed back. "I guess we're gonna have to finally get those beers – I was thinking sometime next week. If things cool down–"

"Yes," she cut him off. "I'd love to."

Because whatever it is he's been wanting to tell her, she really wants to hear.

Also she does, in fact, really miss him.

Has for awhile now she realized.

"I'll hold you to that," he informed her, fake seriousness behind his words.

She nodded with a short exhale of breath.

"Auggie – come hell or high water, we're getting those drinks."

"Good," he said.

"You're gonna get through this, you know," his voice greeted her again after another moment. "All of it."

"Sticking with that one?" she teased.

"What can I say? It's a classic."

Not to mention that when he's the one that says it, she can actually start to believe it's true.

"Thanks, Auggie. Really."

"Don't mention it."

And when she doesn''t say anything else – not quite ready to hang up, but knowing there's nothing really left to say tonight, she just takes a second to listen to his breathing on the other line.

"Get some rest, Annie," he prodded, quietly. "The rest of us need our beauty sleep."

She laughed. "G'night, Auggie."

"Night, Walker."

She hung up with a deep breath, feeling lighter than she had all day and leaned over and shut off her lamp, before sinking her head down onto the pillow.

Curling under the blanket again, she smiled to herself.

It really is cozy – and warm.

Somehow making her feel safe, wrapped up in its snug material.

And it reminds her of the one person whose motives she's never had to question.

_(She likes him too.)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Some trust in love... <strong>_

_**Call it security, Call it your purity, Call it the words we pray.**_❤

* * *

><p>I'm still a little dead from that promo. And by a little, I mean a lot. Sadly, not getting my hopes up – as much as I want it to happen for them, don't think she's ready after everything that's happened.<p>

Not their song quite yet...


	10. When the Music's Right

I take back that last author's note..._Never_ been so happy to be wrong in my life. I know the file is gonna cause problems for them (more secret keeping, Annie? Really?) but I can't even care, because THEY _HAPPENED,_ GUYS.

And she was so _HAPPY_ and he was so _HAPPY_ and the entire build up in the episode was _brilliant_ ("or one thing you love...") and GOD those two...

There have been a bunch of really great tags already, but I couldn't take myself seriously as a writer if I didn't throw my hat into the ring.

Enjoy!:)

_Their moment together was inevitable. They have such great chemistry between the two actors and the two characters, and we felt it would be false to find a contrivance just to put off their relationship for another year. It felt organic, it felt natural to get them together. -Chris Ord_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Now we're here, far away from yesterday; <strong>__**let's begin again.  
><strong>_

_**Let's begin again.**_❤_**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>The steady beat of the rain cascading down on her windows is the only other sound in the room against their shallow breathing, and she's not quite sure how they're managing this <em>talking<em> so well–

Because neither of them can stop grinning.

But then his hand slipped to cup her waist, and she's letting out a sharp gasp.

She slowly relieved him of his jacket, looked up to see the want in his eyes – the warmth...maybe even love?

On an exhale she pressed her lips to his again and backed him up with her hands to his chest until his calves met the edge of the bed.

He pulled her down with him slowly, fingers tailing up to her back under her blouse as hers worked the buttons of his shirt.

When they reached the head of the bed, his lips are peppering kisses against her jaw, along on her neck.

God, she can't breathe.

His mouth left her skin, the warmth of his breath still lingering as she blinked her eyes open to see him about to speak.

"Aug?" she rasped, softly.

She laced her hand around the side of his face and leaned her forehead down over his.

"If you're about to ask me if I'm sure, the answer is yes."

"I was just going say – that I was right," he clarified, his eyes finding hers. "...You're absolutely beautiful."

Her cheeks warmed and she thanked him by leaning in for a kiss, his hands reaching out to wrap around her neck.

And if diving into this now is another mistake,

At least they're make this one together too.

* * *

><p>Legs entangled, with his arms wrapped around her stomach, she can feel the rise and fall of his breathing against her back.<p>

The rain's quieted and everything just feels so _still, _like the universe has stopped just long enough to let them to have this.

She feels like it owes them that much.

He brushed her hair aside, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"So, good talk?" he whispered, his voice thick and warm and his breath tickling her skin.

She smiled and shifted her head back to face him. "_Great_ talk."

His cheeky smirk made her roll her eyes, but she just tucked herself further into chest while he tightened grip around her.

Pretty much perfect actually.

* * *

><p>She woke before him – which for whatever reason surprised her.<p>

She released a breath and rose her hand to run her fingers through his hair, positive that a hopeless smile is plastered on her lips as she looked at him.

And it occurs to her that the only strange thing about this, is how _not_ strange it feels –

– waking up to the sunlight streaming inside, warm in his arms.

Like it's the most natural thing in the world.

He started to stir beside her, his lips slowly curving.

"You are thinking _far _too loudly for so early in the morning," he teased, groggily, eyes still shut.

"Mmm," she hummed. "I'll try to keep it down."

She surprised him with a kiss and it only took a second before he responded, tracing lazy patterns along her spine as he did.

He flashed her a bright grin. "And now I'm up."

She let out a short laugh. "Good."

"Which means," he continued in a low murmur, his fingers continuing to leave a trail of goosebumps, "this wasn't a dream."

"Not unless I'm dreaming too," she whispered.

* * *

><p>"So – those thoughts that were swirling around that pretty little head of yours, keeping you up..." He trailed off, his fingers brushing against hers as she handed him the cup of coffee.<p>

"You're okay with this, yeah?" he finally finished.

She's never seen him quite so nervous before.

Not in this way, at least.

"Do I not seem okay?"

He gave her a sleepy smile punctuated by holding his free hand out for her to take.

She took a step closer and accepted, before dropping her eyes to the floor and then back up at him.

"The timing was a little unexpected," she told him, giving his hand a squeeze. "But a good unexpected."

"So, you did have an idea?"

She nodded. "I had an idea."

"And here I thought I was being subtle," he joked, and she couldn't help but shake her head at him with a smile.

"I...thought I heard it in your voice on that phone call when I was in Russia," she spoke, her voice suddenly quiet to her own ears.

"You thought right."

"And then I kind of just got caught up in everything else that was happening –"

"Not your fault, Walker," he told her, earnestly. "Life's got a nasty habit of getting in the way. Especially our lives."

"When we were at Allen's the other night..." Her words hung in the air and she watched his face as the realization hits.

"My telling you I was leaving for Iraq wasn't exactly the news you were expecting," he finished for her with a short sigh.

"Not exactly." She bit her lip. "I guess after that, maybe, I wasn't sure if...I was only seeing what I wanted to see. Didn't want to get my hopes up again."

He blinked. "Again?"

"Hmm?"

His head tilted at her.

"Right..." She looked up for a beat and a harsh laugh escaped before she took a deep breath.

"I, uh – I've wanted to have this conversation before."

* * *

><p>"Annie..." His hand found the curve of her back while she put their coffee mugs down on the small table.<p>

"I really had..._no_ idea," he breathed, the apology laced behind his words.

She spun around to face him slowly and pressed a hand a to his chest. "And you like to pride yourself on reading people," she mused.

She's went for levity, trying not to taint what's happening now by thinking of the past –

It doesn't quite work, the smile he returned was slightly strained and didn't reach his eyes.

He took a hold of her wrists gently, blinked down to try to meet her gaze. "I am sorry. Truly."

"Don't be." She released his hand to cup his face and brush her thumb across his cheek.

"Timing, remember?"

"Annie–"

"You were happy," she told him, cutting him off, quietly. "Don't apologize for that."

When the words leave her lips, the look in his eyes makes it clear he knows that she's not just talking about him.

"It doesn't take anything away from right now."

"No, it doesn't," he agreed, and she noted that the tension seemed to have left his shoulders.

Stepping up on to her tip toes, she captured his lips before puling him with her as she took the few steps backwards towards the bed.

She tugged him down towards her while her back hit the mattress, more than a little breathless when their mouths parted.

"And in case you were wondering," she murmured, reaching down to link their fingers.

"You're the positive thing I was thinking about too."

The look in his eyes that she's already come to cherish is what she gets in response, the warmth it's causing immediately coursing through her body.

He tightened his grip on her hand and leaned his head down to kiss her again slowly.

They still can't stop grinning.

* * *

><p><em><strong>This could be our happy ending, after all, <strong>_

_**This could be the love that we've been waiting for...❤ **_

* * *

><p>If anyone needs me, I'll be sobbing happy tears into a pillow while re-watching the kiss scene until Summer arrives.<p>

Or, you know, writing more fic.

Or both.

Date chapter as part II? Yes? No? Maybe so?


	11. Blowing Out A Birthday Candle

Holy _hell_, this season...No words. So,_ truly, truly_ sorry I haven't written for these two in _so_ long - but New Girl took over my soul, and the longer time passed, the harder it seemed to get a grasp on their voices in my head. But much like Ali from PLL, I'm back, b*tches. ;)

Because wow. This effing show.

**...**

**_Decide what it is you really want to do here. Be with Auggie, or stop Henry. There may be a time where you'll be forced to choose between the two ––and if you can't, you're gonna fail at both._**

* * *

><p><em>Deep breaths.<em>

_Deep breaths._

She can do this.

She** has** to.

_**(She pushes the button.)**_

* * *

><p>This is for Arthur and Joan, for <em>Auggie <em>–– her team, her_ family_.

And then she remembers Danni.

She forces her hand to remain steady as she writes, the blood pounding in her ears – she _refuses_ to cry, to second guess herself.

She's out of options.

(She's grateful, but not surprised when he agrees to come to her with _almost _no question.)

"And you're absolutely _certain _you want to do this?"

The reality of what this truly means is crashing down on her, the weight heavy on her chest, and he's holding the syringe in one hand, the other gently placed on her thigh.

"I _have_ to be," she answers, but her voice breaks, and the warmth in her friend's eyes is making this _that _much harder.

He hesitates, but then nods slowly. "This has to be timed _perfectly_, Annie."

"How long do I have?"

"I'd say about fifteen to twenty minutes."

Nodding back in understanding, she grips his hand.

"Okay," she whispers. "Let's do this."

He winks.

"See you on the other side, Neshma."

* * *

><p>The ride is agonizingly slow, and too fast at the same time ––<p>

Like she's frozen, as the entire world around her spins with her feet off the ground, and she can actually start to _feel _her heart slow.

_**(She's rising higher, and higher.)**_

She doesn't know if this will truly work.

If she'll even be able to be revived.

And_ fuck_ she's_ scared;_

Even if she _lives_, she'll never be_ alive_ again.

_(_She knows there's no coming back from this, she's heard first hand what she is risking, what she is leaving behind.

Possibly forever.)

But this is where she takes her stand; the only way she knows how to fight for _everything_ she believes in...

For every_one _she loves.

'_Going into battle, is like blowing out a birthday candle._

_Just think of one positive thing that you want –– or one thing you love.'_

So, she closes her eyes–––

_Deep breaths._

_Deep breaths._

_**(Everything's coming to a stop, the lights below are blurred and tiny through the glass.)**_

––– And makes her last call.

* * *

><p><em>"For us, there is no victory. There are only battles. And in the end, the best you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand."<em>

_..._


	12. The Souls of the Faithful Departed

_There is so much freaking death on this show, man – and poor Annie, hasn't had time to collect herself and actually grieve or mourn for those she's lost. (Including, the person she used to be.) So, what better place than that church to do so? Ergo, this insert to the ep. before Calder arrives. _

_I promise an actual A&A chapter soon, hopefully before the next ep, but the idiot went and slept with his dead ex-wife, who is actually dead now, and I just...my emotions are a little confused._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Let perpetual light shine upon them,<em><br>_**_

* * *

><p>She hasn't stepped inside a church in –– she can't remember the last time she stepped inside a church.<p>

And after the things she's done, she's not sure she deserves to.

_(We tortured a man. You shot him, he's dead. That doesn't affect you?)_

_...I don't have time.)_

Right now, she takes the time.

To reflect –– to mourn.

The lives she's had to take, out of self defense, she tells herself were those of evil, ones who would have had no misgivings about ending her life, no remorse for the damage, and _suffering_ they left in their wake.

She tells herself that, but it doesn't make it easier.

It doesn't relieve her of the anger, and _hate_ in her heart that's been fueling her for so long.

Ever since they lost Jai – since he was_ taken_ from them.

She breathes in and lights the match; the first candle is for him.

A friend, a good man, who for all his flaws, at his core, had one of the kindest hearts she'd ever encountered ––

Proving that the sins of the father, need not always be passed down to son.

The candle lights, and she exhales.

_For a friend she could trust in a world laced with lies._

Her hand raising to _the_ spot over her chest, she closes her eyes.

The next, is for Simon.

A man who had taken her by surprise at every turn, a distraction when her heart had been hurting that had turned into _so much_ more before she even realized what was happening.

He'd killed for her,_ died_ for her.

Sacrificed himself because he _loved_ her.

She still keeps the chain with her, safe and tucked away – a reminder, and a promise to his sister.

_For the love she lost._

And this one, she strikes the match once more, is for Megan, and for the Chens.

A candle for all those who didn't choose this life, but had it thrust upon them.

Good people, reduced to assets – _pawns_ – caught in the crossfire of this never ending war.

_For the ones she couldn't save._

––Like Theo.

Another match, another candle for another member of her team – her second family.

Someone who had spent his whole life, without people who_ truly_ cared, who he could trust – but who had somehow found it in him to put his trust in her.

_For her brother._

So, she tells herself that she's doing all this for them – to speak for the ones she's lost, after the wicked have robbed them of their voices;

Lena, Seth, Goodman –others that had taken an oath, to _protect_ the lives of others, to serve their country and fight the good fight for the greater good.

Whom instead, had let greed and power drive them, who were consumed by the darkness.

But, it doesn't relieve her of the anger, and hate ––

––and the cross she has to bear for the lives she's taken.

_(You're a monster, Jessica – just like he is.)_

_A candle for the fallen._

She hears the sound of footsteps approaching, as she lights the match for the last time.

For Annie Walker.

Daughter, sister, aunt and lover.

A woman who believed that good would conquer all, that justice would prevail.

Who had _hope_.

Someone who'd let go of _all she had left_, the only place she'd called home, her team and family – the man she loved, all in order to fight for them all –– not sure she'd ever get them back.

Now left teetering on the edge of becoming _everything_ she hates.

_For the part of her soul she's left behind._

"There are a lot of ghosts in here. It's nice not to be the only one."

* * *

><p><em><strong><em><strong>And, may the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.<strong> _  
><strong>_

_**_Amen. _**_


	13. Blowing Out A Birthday Candle II

_So, I started this based on the promotional picture of them at the restaurant in Hong Kong, before the preview clip was released. I literally had to stop watching the clip so I could finish writing before I watch._

_Which I still haven't done._

_Anyhoooo, their reunion...was pretty perfect for where they both are emotionally at this point, him grieving, her feeling lost, and I'm looking forward to tonight's ep and the finale starting the healing process with them both._

* * *

><p><em><strong>'I know you've always got my back.'<strong>_

_**'I do.**__' _❤

* * *

><p><em>Deep breaths, deep breaths.<em>

"You alright, Walker?" She clears her throat at the sound of her name. "I don't hear chewing," he continues.

She's angled away from the counter now, staring out into the crowd in front of them.

"I'm fine."

"Liar."

"Hmm," she hums back in response, letting out a soft breath.

In spite of herself, she finds herself smiling at the teasing in his voice – it feels normal, _familiar,_ and yeah, she kind of likes the fact that he can still read her this well.

But she's not sure if she can_ do_ normal – with him – anymore.

Whatever constituted as normal for them anyway.

_(For people like us there is no normal.)_

He places his fork down, and she hears him inhale before suddenly his hand is reaching down to find hers.

"Hey–," he whispers, "what are you thinking? Talk to me."

She doesn't turn to face him, instead just closes her eyes briefly before speaking.

"I'm _thinking_ that since all of this this began, every time we've thought we were a step ahead of him, we've just ended being three steps behind –"

Pausing, she bows her head, "–I'm _thinking_ that this is our last play and I really, really need this to work."

She feels his grip tighten on her hand. "It _will._"

And she wishes she could still have his faith, his optimism, and after_ everything_ they've been through – everything they've both_ lost_ – including each other, she has no idea how he can be so sure.

"Yeah," she answers, barely audibly. "We'll see."

His thumb starts to brush circles over her knuckles, and the contact that she's ached for after all this time, starts to fill her up, maker her feel warm again.

"Get him, or die trying, remember?"

"You're forgetting," she says, finally angling herself towards him. "One of us is already dead."

She sees the muscles in his face harden, and she immediately regrets the comment – because she can't even begin to imagine what the last few months must have been like for him.

As difficult, and _painful_, as being without him was, being left alone to pick up the shattered pieces at the agency– with Joan, with her _sister_ – well, she's not really surprised at the way he managed to _cope_.

It still hurts like hell,_ stings_ more than anything she's felt before – but she chose her fate.

He never chose to be left behind.

Now, after losing Helen– _again_ –

"Auggie–"

But he surprises her, as he always does, leaning forward, grasping her other hand as well.

"And _you're_ forgetting," he starts, softly, "that you're not operating on your own anymore, Annie."

She blinks up, and meets his gaze– gentle, reassuring– and she hasn't forgotten, she knows he _does_ have her back.

_Always_.

If she's being honest with herself, it's the only thing left to ground her.

The fact that they're able so easily to fall back into step, with work at least, reminds her that he's been the _one constant_ in her life she started at the agency––

–– the North Star that's always pointed her home when she's lost.

(Like she has been for so many months now.)

"I _know_," she speaks automatically, squeezing his hands back. "Thanks."

He answers with a smile and nods, as she drops their hands to turn ahead once more.

She closes her eyes, focusing in the goal, on what she _needs_ the outcome of this night to be.

She reminds herself of the life she wants to get back to, and the _person_ she wants be again (_whole,_ complete).

And most importantly, who she still wants the chance to be that person with.

"I still don't hear chewing," she hears him quip, and her eyes spring open.

She huffs out a breathy laugh and turns her head to him.

"Just blowing out a birthday candle," she whispers.

His eyes widen at that, and then his lips curve into a bright grin.

"Then I believe it's show time."

"Let's do it."

They stand together, and he wraps a hand around her arm for her to lead, it feels normal –– familiar.

_Deep breaths, deep breaths._

She's going into battle again, but this time she's not alone.

* * *

><p><strong><em>For us, there is no victory. There are only battles. And in the end, the best you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand.<em>**

**_And if you're very lucky, you find someone willing to stand with you. _❤**

**_..._**


	14. Home is Wherever I'm With You

The most delayed of all the delayed things...this shall be tag/wrap up to the season. I figured it would be okay to hold off, so all post-eps would be spread out. That, and well, procrastinating is kinda my thing.

This shall be in three parts, with more of Auggie point of view later on, as the poor guy as gone through as much (if not more?) as she has.

Also, this is based on how the season would have originally ended, had they not cut it.

Cheers!:)

* * *

><p><em>Auggie? Thanks for staying.<em>  
><em>You can thank me in person later. Almost there.<strong><br>**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>What if I went and lost myself,<strong>_  
><em><strong> Would you know where to find me?<strong>_

_**If I forgot who I am,  
>Would you please remind me?<strong> _❤_**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>She walks out of the office, and it's all still a little dizzying – surreal, and it feels like some sort of weird out of body experience.<p>

Like she's just watching herself from above, walking though the halls––

And she's home, but she still feels like a ghost.

He's there, still standing where she left him, waiting for her (always waiting), and she lets out a ragged breath.

"How'd it go?" he asks, blinking up at her presence.

Managing a small smile, she sticks her hands in her jacket pockets and tilts her head down before meeting his concerned gaze again. "Talk over drinks?"

He lets out a short breath of his own, offering her a smile back. "That your solution?"

It takes her a second before she gets it.

_It's Miller Time. Happy Hour at the Tavern._

_One drink._

Instinctively, she curls her arm around his. "Oh, absolutely," she whispers.

Drinks and talking; It's a start, at least.

* * *

><p>"So, you finally got to see the wizard. What was it like behind the curtain?" he tries to joke, but the weight of this evening doesn't leave much room for levity, the air still thick between them.<p>

She find her lips curving slightly anyway.

"Not exactly what I'd expected."

He's smirking now. "Wasn't for Dorothy either."

"I was offered a position," she says finally, the words rushing out in quick breath.

He takes a swig from his mug. "Doesn't surprise me after everything you managed to accomplish."

"I killed a man, Auggie."

"Annie––"

"And you can say that I did what I needed to do–"

"––You did."

"Or that I did it for the right reasons –"

"You _did_," he presses harder, inching his hand forwards to search for hers.

"It doesn't make it any easier," she persists. "It's like the more I step outside the lines, the more I'm rewarded as long as the end result is deemed just. That is this world. This life. But do I want it to be _my_ life?"

He squints at her, tilting his head as he reaches a conclusion: "You turned it down," he says, no question in his voice.

"I did."

"But there's something else."

"I resigned," she answers, nodding, sucking in a sharp breath. His eyes widen. "Completely."

"As of about a half ago – I no longer work for the CIA."

* * *

><p>"One of the first things Henry ever told me when met years ago ––was that we're all in the mud," she explains. "All of us. Whether we admit it to ourselves or not."<p>

She blinks up at him. "That was the first time that I ever questioned this job."

"I remember," he tells her.

"Tell me what _it_ is, and I'll tell you if it's worth it," she quotes his words back to him.

"That is never something I could answer for you."

"Mmm," she hums in agreement, before taking a drink.

"I wanted to know how dirty I would get."

Letting out a hollow laugh, she runs her hands through her hair.

"Looks like thanks to him, I finally got my answer."

* * *

><p>"Annie––," he exhales, moving his beer aside, and she can tell he's choosing his next words carefully.<p>

"You know I'm with you. Whatever it is you that you want."

She links their fingers, a smile gracing her features.

"Right now," she speaks softly, meeting his eyes, "I just want to click my heels three times."

* * *

><p>She adjusts herself on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, tugging at the sleeves of the sweatshirt he's lent her.<p>

"I don't know who I am outside of this job, anymore, Auggie. Or if the line separating the two even exists."

"Annie," he pats her thigh, "tell me something. Why did you open that file in the first place?"

Turning towards him, she rests her hands over his. "You _know_ why."

"Because you were protecting the people that you care about – the people that you_ love_," he answers for her. "That is who you are, Annie. Despite anything and everything that's happened since."

Despite_ leaving_, leaving_ him_ – despite the people she's hurt and the lives she's taken.

"And what if, I don't feel like that person anymore?"

He kisses the crown of her head slowly, a hand coming to wrap around her waist.

"Then I'll be around to remind you until you do," he whispers.

"Thank you." She doesn't deserve it – doesn't feel like she'll ever truly deserve him or his unwavering faith in her, but the selfish part of her doesn't want to let any of it (him) go ever again.

"And thank you," she murmurs, "for everything else too––"

She lifts a hand to cup his cheek, running her thumb along the line of his jaw.

"For bringing me home."

_(To him.)_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Cause without you things go hazy. <strong>❤_


	15. Home is Wherever I'm With You II

_I apologize profusely for the delay. Apparently when attempting to work on more than one thing at once, I end up doing none of it? Go figure._

_Alas, part 2, of my finale arc – allow me a bit of creative license with Joan still being in the hospital after Annie's return. Auggie said a day & a half of travel, I believe? Regardless, I liked it this way...  
><em>

_Hope you guys do too!_

_(P.S, a couple Castle nods towards the end there. For reasons.) _

* * *

><p><em><strong>So show me family;<strong>_

_**All the blood that I would bleed.**_  
><em><strong>I don't know where I belong,<strong>_

_**I don't know where I went wrong,**_  
><em><strong>but I can write a song. <strong>_❤_**  
><strong>_

* * *

><p>He hates the smell of hospitals.<p>

Everyone does, that's a given, he realizes – but it's enough, walking these halls now, to make him feel almost physically ill.

"Hey–" Annie squeezes his arm, her voice jarring his attention, as they start to turn a corner.

"You okay?"

"I'm good," he assures her, half-heartedly. "Just not used to being in a hospital for happy news, I guess."

And he knows when the weight of the words reach her, can feel it in the intensity of her stare, the shuddering inhale of breath she takes before she tightens the grip she has on him.

"Me either," she murmurs.

* * *

><p>Her heart swells more than just a little bit at the sight in front of her as they entire the room.<p>

Husband and wife with their child ––

Reminding her, that even in the darkest days, there's a possibility for joy.

Joan blinks up at her warmly, before motioning with her head to the bundle in her arms.

"Annie, Auggie – there' s somebody we want you to meet."

She takes a few tentative steps forward, Auggie close behind.

"He looks just like you, Arthur."

Her head snaps back to offer him a fruitless, but affectionate, eye-roll.

"As a matter of fact," Joan says, huffing out a short laugh, "he does."

Arthur grins down to his wife. "He has your eyes."

"He's beautiful," she cuts in.

"Do you want to hold him, Annie?" Joan asks, meeting her gaze again.

"I – uh – " She takes a breath and nods. "Sure."

"Alright," Joan whispers, more to her son than her, "c'mere."

She bends down slightly as Joan places the baby boy in her arms, the newborn staring up at her with wide eyes, surprisingly still save for the reach of his tiny little hand towards her face.

Oh he is _so_ incredibly beautiful.

"Annie," Arthur, calls, a lightness to his tone, "you're allowed to breathe while you hold him."

Her smile is a little watery as she nods, and before she has the chance to respond out loud, Auggie has stepped up directly behind her, running his hands along her arm to find the crook of her elbow where Mackenzie's head is resting.

"Who can blame her in the presence of this little guy?" he whispers, stroking the baby's bright pink cheeks.

And his breath is ghosting across her neck as his words are met with approval, curled fingers now wrapped around Auggie's pinky.

If she was having trouble breathing before, this moment–is certainly not helping.

"He likes you," she manages to croak out.

"Well, and that_ he_ can't be blamed for," Auggie retorts, grinning, and her eyes leave the baby to seek his gaze, and she smiles back, just barely manages to exhale.

"Certainly not."

"Annie, do you think you could be so kind to grab me a cup of coffee?" she suddenly hears Joan ask her.

She nods. "Sure, of course."

Stepping away from Auggie, she moves to lay Mackenzie back in Joan's arms.

"There's a machine not too far down the next hall, and to your left–" Joan takes a beat to look up at her husband.

"Arthur, why don't you go with her, show her where it is?"

"No problem, Dear," he answers. "I think I know when we're not wanted," he addresses her with a smile, leaning back down after to kiss Joan's temple.

She hums out a short laugh before she turns around, walking past Auggie.

"Want anything?"

"A lot of things," he answers, catching her hand, it's wistful and quiet. "But a coffee'll do."

Her breath is caught in her throat again.

* * *

><p>Sighing, he takes a couple of steps forward, bracing himself for the conversation he knows is coming, and doesn't want to have.<p>

"About a foot in front of you, and to your right," Joan informs him.

He feels for the chair, and sits – can feel her eyes on him as they sit quietly before she speaks–

"How are you, Auggie?"

She doesn't say, "how are you doing with everything?" or "how are you holding up?" and he's not exactly sure if that's better or worse, but the meaning behind the words are clearly implied in the thick space between them.

"I'm not the one that just had a baby," he quips, managing a smile. "Not to mention right after an attempt on your life–– Motherhood's made you bad-ass."

"Oh, Auggie, you of all people should know – I've always been bad-ass."

He definitely does – this woman who's been his champion for all these years, is one of the strongest and most compassionate people he's ever had the privilege of knowing.

And after the way she handled everything these past few months since Arthur's resignation, with so much dignity and poise, no way she would be mistaken for anything but.

"No question," he assures her, lips curving.

* * *

><p>"We are truly relieved – and happy, to have you back with us, Annie."<p>

Pouring the milk into the small styrofoam cup she angles her head back towards him slightly, beams at the warmth and sincerity in his voice.

"Thank you."

"I'm the one that needs to be thanking you," he answers."For everything you've done for my family."

She nods, inhaling sharply at that, her eyes meeting the pale tiles of the floor. "I just wish I could have done more."

"Oh, Annie–" He steps next to her, as she spins around to face him. She can barely meet his eyes.

"You did everything you could for Teo. And more than I should have asked of you; Nothing – nothing that happened is your fault."

So she keeps hearing.

(It doesn't make it okay.)

"Annie, thanks to you – my wife and son are safe in that room right now, and he won't have to grow up without his father the way Teo did."

"I –uh, I'm just really glad for the two of you," she tells him, honestly. "After everything, you two deserve to be happy."

"So do you, Annie," he counters. "Remember that."

* * *

><p>"It's okay not to be alright," she finally says, after a moment of silence. "What you went through–"<p>

"We've all be through our fair share, Joan," he sighs.

"Auggie – you had to bury her. Mourn her. Grieve with her family – I cannot possibly imagine what that must have been like." Pausing, she takes a deliberate slow breath. "Especially while trying to accept the truth about Helen," she finishes, quietly. "And now–"

"That's why, I'm a little bit surprised actually," he admits, cutting her off.

"At what?"

"At the fact that you're not angry at me for keeping the truth from you," he answers. "Especially after my...strong reaction when I found out about Helen."

She lets out a short laugh at that. "Not your finest moment –but you were angry, understandably. Arthur doesn't hold that against you. And neither do I. Nor do I fault you for keeping me in the dark about Annie, Auggie."

"I appreciate that," he breathes.

"I realize it wasn't a matter of trust," she continues, as he hears her adjusting her position on the bed in response to tiny cry from Mackenzie. "You were doing everything possible to protect the woman that you love."

Her hand pats his knee gently. "I would expect nothing less from the man that you are."

* * *

><p>"I left Langley," she tells him as they start walking back, coffees in hand, and saying the words out loud again, should make her feel...freer somehow?<p>

Instead she still feels lost.

"Word still travels fast within those walls," he returns with a smile. He turns his head to her. "And I speak for my wife and I when I say that as long as at least one of us is in the building – in whatever capacity– there will always be a place for you there."

She exhales, offering him a nod as they round the corner. "Thanks, Arthur."

* * *

><p>"And our girl?" Joan asks him–– he doesn't miss the inflection of concern in her words, laced with pride and affection there as well. "How is she doing with all this?"<p>

"She's strong," he answers, simply. She's..."

"Annie," Joan finishes with him.

He smiles, albeit tiredly. "Exactly."

"Not to mention – that she has you."

His chest feels heavy, a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue – he's not sure where they stand, if they'll ever get back to where they once were or, if Annie even wants to.

"Auggie," she says warmly, "the pairings we talked about – going the distance?"

He'd be lying if he said he were surprised she knew exactly where his thoughts were.

"I'm still betting on the two of you."

* * *

><p>"I bet you're glad to be back on the good stuff," Auggie jokes, as Annie slides his own coffee into his hands.<p>

"Thanks," he murmurs up to her.

She nods. "Mhmm."

"Oh, you have no idea," Joan answers him.

Her eyes land on Arthur, who's now holding the baby, hopelessly grinning at the bundle in his arms, and then back to Joan, who's helpless to look away as well.

"We should get going," she finally speaks up. "Let you guys get your rest before you head home."

"She's right. You're gonna need it," Auggie adds, smirking as he stands to join her.

Arthur beams, barely looks up as he answers, "Don't we know it."

Joan extending her hand out to take hers briefly. "If you change your mind––"

"Thank you, Joan." She gives the woman's hand a squeeze. "For...everything these past few years."

"Likewise, Annie."

"Congratulations again, you two," Auggie says, lightly wrapping his hand around her arm to lead.

She feels a little bit lighter somehow as she and Auggie reach the door, and it dawns on her, as she looks to him –– that this is it.

This is everything she'd been fighting to protect.

There's a piece of herself that she died in the process, she knows, but these people here, that little baby, all their futures, that is what she went to hell protecting.

Arthur's words from earlier sink in, as she leaves them with one last wave; despite the cost – she'd succeeded.

_They'd_ succeeded.

"Take care of yourselves," Joan calls out, causing her to turn head back quickly.

"And each other."

* * *

><p>He's about to make a joke – or attempt to anyway. Maybe about the Campbells making them godparents, or asking to them babysit.<p>

The words never come.

Instead they stand, not saying a word, facing the door of the room still, as he hears Annie release a long breath.

"It's kind of ironic," she says and she's facing the blinds, which he assumes is at least partly open, watching the newly expanded family.

"What is?"

"That I didn't want to end up like them."

* * *

><p>"Yeah," he muses in return, a sort of humorless laugh in his voice. "I suppose it is."<p>

He'd asked her before where they went from here, and she doesn't truly know, maybe there isn't anywhere left _to_ go.

But God, she wants to _try_.

It's the only thing she's still sure of –– the fact that's he's remained, even after they lost each other, that one ever-fixed spot she can count on when everything else is blurred.

And it kills her that she doesn't think she's ever told him that out loud.

He looks down for a beat, and tries to shift gears.

"Are you considering it?" he asks. "Changing your mind about going back, I mean."

She shakes her head and finally faces him. "I don't think that's what I want right now."

"What do you want then, Annie?"

"You," she answers, the sheer forcefulness of the words filled with months of longing and _missing_ him with an ache that hasn't since gone away.

She lifts her hands to cup face. "I just want you."

And before she has a chance to think any of it through, her lips are on his, searching to see if this is still where she fits, murmuring apologies into his mouth and breathing into him everything she has left to say.

He's stiff at first, confused–surprised, but then she feels the moment he let's go, deepening the kiss and wrapping his arms around her, the fabric of her blouse between his fingers.

It's the first time in months she's felt whole.

* * *

><p>Joan smiles down at their boy before she looks to her husband, who glances towards the door before addressing her.<p>

"Think they'll make it?"

Humming an affirmative, she meets his warm eyes.

"Isn't that what all the great love stories are about?" she questions, reaching to entwine their fingers. "Beating the odds?"

He leans down to kiss her.

"Most assuredly," he whispers.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Love, we need it now, let's hope for some,<strong>_  
><em><strong>So, we're bleeding out,<br>**_

**I belong with you, you belong with me, ****(you're my sweetheart.) ❤**


	16. Home is Wherever I'm With You III

**I'm still alive! Hope you guys enjoy the late, late, resolution to this arc.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Well maybe it is a sign. A sign that ours is a great love story. 'Cause what's a great love story without obstacles to overcome? Every fairy tale has them. Terrible trials that only the worthy can transcend – <strong>_

* * *

><p>She was always warned as a kid not to shower during thunderstorms, but she hadn't particularly cared this evening.<p>

Her hair is dripping onto the t-shirt she's now clad in (the one of his he's let her keep) as she dabs her towel over it.

The strong scent of the dye is still fresh two days later.

When she reaches the door frame, he's sitting at the foot of the bed, something in his hands – it takes her a second to recognize it as the necklace.

Helen's necklace.

Sucking in a quick breath, she walks over to sit beside him and he finally looks up.

"You...wanna talk about it?" she manages.

He runs his fingers along the pendant. "I'm not particularly sure that's a good idea, Annie."

She nods, conceding and understanding his point – but _he_ needs to understand that it's okay.

"I don't want you to feel like –" She pauses, takes a moment to try to formulate a coherent sentence through her muddled thoughts. "You don't have to hide the fact that you're hurting –even if it is over someone else."

And she remembers waking up in that hospital bed, scared and confused – putting the pieces together over Lena, and the fact that Simon had sacrificed himself for her.

It was Auggie who'd quieted her sobs, who provided her solace and given her strength when she all she had left was anger.

"I spoke to her, you know," she continues after a moment. "When you sent her to find me. She wanted to come in – she wanted her life back. I – I'm really sorry she never got that chance."

"Me too," he answers, quietly.

She settles a bit closer to him and links their fingers together.

"I wasn't fair to her. When she and I talked after we –" He stops and clears his throat. "I knew I couldn't give her what she wanted."

He sighs. "Not when I was still in love with you."

* * *

><p>Forcing himself to angle his head to her, he tries to gauge her reaction when he's met with silence.<p>

"She told me that too," she finally breathes, squeezing his hand.

* * *

><p>"Why didn't you come see me?" he asks. "When you first got back to D.C."<p>

He's greeted with silence once again, save for the sound of the storm still raging outside – and it's not like he doesn't already know the answer on some level, or at least hopes he does.

But he wants the words.

"I – for the same reason I didn't accept Calder's protocol when I left. I couldn't risk putting you in danger."

He shakes his head. "I didn't need protection, Annie...What I needed, was _you_. I would have taken that risk."

"But _I couldn't!_" she says, almost angrily now, and it makes his head snap to face her again. "I am _sorry_ for leaving. I am _sorry_ for what it did to us. But I would have rather lost _us_ than _you_. If it meant keeping you safe."

"Don't ask me to be sorry for that," she finishes on a soft hiccup.

His heart constricts at her words, the desperation and pleading behind them.

He'd accepted the reasons why she did what she did, can _understand_ the need she felt to protect those around her, though when Calder had told him she refused the protocol, and again when she'd returned, that she hadn't wanted to reach out to him –– it had cut through him so fiercely it was hard to even _breathe._

He'd truly felt he'd lost her.

And though he'd made a promise to himself long ago, that he'd never leave this woman behind – leave her alone, he can't deny that in her shoes, if it meant saving her, he would've.

"Shh," he soothes, reaching to pull her into his chest, and he can feel the moisture from her eyes on his shoulder as he's murmuring into her hair.

"I won't," he promises, knowing right now_ she_ needs the assurance that she hasn't lost _him_.

* * *

><p>She hadn't allowed herself to cry since – well, since Simon.<p>

Confused and weak, with a hole in her chest, finding out yet again the life of someone else she'd cared deeply for had been stripped away from her.

She'd steeled herself after that, letting her hatred and quest for justice –_ retribution_, drive her.

Once again, Auggie's the one here now with open arms when she finally lets it all go; anchoring her as she allows the last year of hurt and heartache to catch up to her. (And wasn't _she_ supposed to be comforting him?)

She's not sure how long they stay like that, her tucked into side, as he traces circles over her back, but after sometime she notices the quiet.

The storm's stopped.

* * *

><p>There's a tiny breath released on her end when he feels her pull away to raise her head to him.<p>

"Do you remember what you said when showed up that night in the rain?"

"Something about taking the wrong bus?" he jokes, earning the desired response when he can just tell she's rolling her eyes, and that there's a smirk tugging at her lips.

"That," she concedes, "and about nothing be certain for people like us."

He hums an affirmation in response.

"I think you were wrong."

His eyes widen in question, and he waits for her to continue.

"I've always been sure of you," she breathes. "From the moment we met. That I could trust you – count on you. And later on, of how I felt about you."

She tilts his cheek towards her. "_We're_ what I'm sure of."

"Annie–"

"I know you felt that way once too," she continues, cutting him off.

"You told me you've wanted this –_ me_, since I walked into your life. I carried that with me, Auggie. Hoping, _praying_ – that when I –" She inhales. "That when it was all over, that you'd still be sure. Because when you really love someone –"

"Those bonds never really go away," he finishes on a whisper, a smile forming as he leans his forehead to hers.

"You still sure of that?" He hears the unspoken, _of me_ in the way her voice cracks.

"More than ever, Walker," he vows, his thumb running along the side of her face.

Then he kisses her, or she kisses him.

He sighs contently into her mouth, the slow and languid movement of their lips making him feel like he's the one that's coming home.

* * *

><p>It's slow and <em>perfect<em>, like they're getting to know each other, like that first night all over again – full of promise and hope, as they explore and touch.

Venturing into a new beginning together, letting go of the pain of the past, to embrace the future.

_Their_ future.

And this time when she wakes, happy and _warm_ and at peace in his arms, she makes sure the first words out of her mouth, are '_I love you.'_

* * *

><p><em><strong>But you can't give up. That's the deal. We want the happy ending...we can't give up.–Richard Castle.❤<strong>_


End file.
